


Instinct

by Drazyrohk



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Beast Mode Sex, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rare Pairings, Short One Shot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23485087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk
Summary: Possessing a beast mode came with all sorts of benefits but just as many drawbacks. Cheetor was discovering this the hard way.
Relationships: Cheetor/Tigatron
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Instinct

Possessing a beast mode came with all sorts of benefits but just as many drawbacks. Cheetor was discovering this the hard way.

He’d been feeling ‘under the weather’ for three days now. Rhinox had done extensive scans but there was no explanation for the elevated spark rate, the increase in temperature or the low fuel warnings that persisted despite the fact that Cheetor had been eating voraciously since the symptoms started. 

“Get some proper rest. I’m sure whatever this is will pass through your systems.” Rhinox said after scanning the younger mech for a third time that afternoon. 

“I don’t feel like resting. I feel like running.” Cheetor muttered as he slid off of the examination table. 

“I wouldn’t advise it. Your spark might not take kindly to the strain.” Rhinox said and clapped a heavy servo down on Cheetor’s shoulder. 

“Right. I guess I’ll give it a shot. It couldn’t hurt, after all.” Cheetor said with a sigh. He nodded at Rhinox and shrugged off the touch, then headed back to his quarters. He didn’t want to be here, he wanted to be outside. He couldn’t explain why, it was just a feeling he couldn’t shake. 

He lay down but he didn’t recharge. He wasn’t even truly resting, he was just waiting. Waiting until it was dark. Waiting until he was sure everyone else was asleep.

Then he crept out, made his way through the command centre and down the elevator. The shields were up, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was being out there under the stars, where he could be properly heard. 

The sound woke Tigatron from a deep sleep, set his teeth immediately on edge. He froze where he lay and listened, trying to be certain of what he had heard. 

The sound came again and Tigatron lifted his helm. His ears flicked and he made a deep, rumbling sound of curiosity. He knew that noise… he’d heard it before. It made a pang of loss move through his spark. 

Snowstalker had made that sound once. 

Rising from his nest and stretching, Tigatron made his way out of his lair and onto the snowy ground outside. He sniffed the air and rumbled again, his gaze turned towards the Maximal’s base of operations.

It was a brisk night, and there was a great distance to cover. He wasn’t as fast as Cheetor, but he could make short work of the trip. 

Cheetor didn’t know why, he just knew he had to do this. Standing atop the base, yowling at the moon as loudly as he possibly could, it made absolutely no sense to him but he couldn’t stop himself. 

Over and over he called out. Again and again and again… until he’d lost track of time. Somewhere at the back of his processor, he worried that he’d been infected by some sick virus concocted by the Predacons. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d done something like that to the Maximals after all. 

Fluid leaked from his optics, his throat was raw, his cooling fans raged, but still Cheetor was compelled to continue. So much effort, and it seemed futile. He could feel himself beginning to lose hope in achieving whatever he’d come up here for. 

Then he heard a chuff from behind him and a familiar field pressed against his own. Cheetor was panting as he turned his helm and saw Tigatron sitting behind him. 

“Are you with me, Little Cat?” That deep voice, so calm and so soothing, always the sound of reason. It reverberated through his frame. 

Cheetor turned on shaking legs, shoulders hunched and helm hanging. 

“W-what’s wrong with me?” He asked in a hoarse voice. “What’s happening to me?” 

“Do not fear, Little Cat.” Tigatron said softly. Cheetor felt compelled to obey, but he didn’t quite feel in control of his frame. “Our beast modes come with powerful instincts. My time in solitude has allowed me to grow more in tune with them.” 

“I-I… I don’t know what I want, what I need, but there’s something… something I came out here for. I don’t know what I’m doing, Big Cat.” Cheetor said in a desperate tone, his optics closed. 

He flinched when he felt a soft muzzle press against his ear. Then he leaned in to the glossa that followed, and a shudder moved through him. 

“I know what you need.” Tigatron said against his ear. “And I can give it to you, if you are willing to allow me to help.” 

“Please.” Cheetor whispered miserably. “Please Tigatron…” 

“There is no need to fear, Cheetor.” Tigatron continued to nuzzle Cheetor as he spoke. “What is happening to you is natural and fighting it will only make you suffer more than you have already. You must listen to your body and give it what it needs.” 

“What is that? What does it- what do _I_ need?” Cheetor whimpered. 

“A mate.” Tigatron said simply, and by the Matrix yes, that sounded so right. 

Cheetor let out a whine and butted his head against Tigatron’s chest. He arched himself against the larger cat, who circled him slowly. “Like with the organics? We… we don’t work like that.” He uttered, but damn, he didn’t want to talk, he just wanted to-

“Frag.” Cheetor blurted, face plates heating. 

“Yes, exactly.” Tigatron said from somewhere behind him. “And I will, if you want me to.”

Even if the thought of fragging Tigatron had crept into his dreams at night, there was no way he was going to admit it out loud. Being a young mech, Cheetor had experienced his fair share of fantasies involving his team, his friends. 

Never in a thousand solar cycles would he have guessed his fantasy would become reality. 

“If it’ll make my spark stop burning, if it’ll make the urge to scream go away, then do it.” Cheetor croaked without any significant hesitation. 

“I need you to be certain I am the one you want.” Tigatron said, and Cheetor couldn’t help the pang of annoyance he felt in his spark. 

“The others don’t even know what’s happening. Not even Rhinox… so of course it has to be you. Please.” Cheetor rasped. 

His field rippled with a messy blend of irritable desperation and restless need. A soft growl escaped him, and the rumbling reply that Tigatron gave reverberated through Cheetor’s frame. It served to stoke the embers that smouldered behind his panels, embers that seemed to ignite when Tigatron’s chest pressed against his back. 

Giving way to the heavier frame above his own, Cheetor let Tigatron bear him down until his chest pressed to the cold metal of the ship below him. Instinct drove his hips up and back, and his blunt claws dug shallow furrows in the ship’s hull. 

“That’s it, Cheetor.” Tigatron murmured. “You’re going to be alright. Let me in.”

“I’ve… um…” Cheetor couldn’t help the subtle undulation of his hips and the embarrassed huff he let out as he searched for the right words. 

Tigatron’s vents hitched and he rumbled in apparent appreciation. “I promise to be gentle.” He said in a husky tone. 

“Maybe… maybe I don’t want gentle.” Cheetor replied immediately. “Gentle means you’d be holding back.”

“This is not about me though, Little Cat.” Tigatron said with gentle amusement. 

“Yeah, you’re right, but… if I have to be certain I want you, you’ve gotta be certain you want me too.” Cheetor said with earnesty. 

Tigatron let out a soft, thoughtful hum, then Cheetor heard the distinct click and slide of a panel retracting. The spike that rubbed deliberately against his hind quarters was generous to say the least, and Cheetor’s valve clenched in response to it. 

“It is safe to say that I am in fact very certain.” Tigatron growled near his ear. “But it will be difficult to mate with you if you don’t let me in.” 

And that was what Cheetor wanted, wasn’t it? That was the desired result of his actions tonight. It was what his body had been driving him to achieve. 

There was no prompt on his HUD, all Cheetor had to do was let go of the tension in his frame that had him trembling and clawing at the hull. His panel slid open, the cold night air upon his exposed valve eliciting a gasp and a full body shiver. 

Tigatron breathed in deeply, and the rumbling sigh he released was hot against the back of Cheetor’s neck. He closed his jaws over the spotted scruff, large fangs gripped just short of being painful, and Cheetor felt his own hips buck without him meaning them to. 

Positioning his body over Cheetor’s just so, holding the smaller cat still with the unrelenting grip of his jaws, Tigatron let out a possessive growl. 

He wasted no more time, and maybe it was just because Cheetor had never been penetrated before, but that spike felt more than generous as it was unceremoniously hilted within him. 

The spitting hiss and snarl that ripped forth from Cheetor in response was met with the tightening of fangs around his scruff and a deeper growl from Tigatron. 

Beast mode instincts were strange, and even though Cheetor knew this was what he’d wanted, he felt the urge to fight. Panting open mouthed, Cheetor clenched down on the spike within him and dragged his claws against the hull. Even as he tried to twist free of Tigatron’s grip, his hips pressed back eagerly as the bigger cat thrust into him. 

It was exquisite and painful all at once, but it didn’t feel like it was enough. Not fast enough, not deep enough. While each thrust ignited untouched nodes within him, it wasn’t quelling that burning need Cheetor felt.

He forced himself to unclench and a gasp escaped him when Tigatron was able to get in further than before. Still, his instincts told him it wasn’t enough. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” Cheetor rasped. 

The next growl that escaped Tigatron was equal parts warning and appreciation. He shifted his position a touch to give himself more leverage, hunched over Cheetor’s frame further and began a claiming, powerful pace. 

With a guttural cry, Cheetor rocked back into each thrust as much as his position would allow him. The need for completion and fulfillment as so great he wasn’t even sure if he was enjoying this. Frustration laid his ears back and he once again twisted to try and break Tigatron’s grip. 

This time, Tigatron relented, but as soon as his jaws left Cheetor’s scruff and allowed the younger cat to snarl and snap at him, he let out a thunderous growl and closed them over Cheetor’s throat instead. Fangs nearly breaking through fur and protoflesh, Tigatron gave Cheetor a firm shake to establish dominance. 

A shrill and decidedly unhappy yowl escaped Cheetor, but Tigatron’s increased pace and force was enough to frag the fight out of him. 

It wasn’t a race to the finish, Tigatron clearly planned on making sure Cheetor overloaded first. And by the Matrix, Cheetor did so spectacularly just as he thought the pressure within him couldn’t build any higher. 

Optics once again streaming fluid, a raw, crackling wail escaping him, Cheetor went rigid as he succumbed to the onslaught of Tigatron’s girth and determination. 

His valve rippled along the length of Tigatron’s spike, his claws screeched as they dug ever deeper furrows in the hull, static sparked off his fur and it felt like the fog enveloping his processor finally lifted.

Cheetor was painfully aware of how stretched his valve felt, and equally aware of how close he was to having the delicate components of his throat crushed by Tigatron’s powerful jaws. 

He let out a soft sound of distress, but it wasn’t in response to this that Tigatron released his hold. It was the tiger’s own overload that freed Cheetor from his perilous position as Tigatron’s head snapped back. 

The roar he let out shook the hull and reverberated through Cheetor, and the sudden flood of heat and increase in pressure within him made the younger cat yelp. 

Instinctively bucking forward in an effort to escape, Cheetor quickly regretted it. Not only was Tigatron seemingly stuck within him, his spike tugged sharply at the lining of Cheetor’s valve. 

“Rrrgh, stop struggling.” Tigatron growled, not unkindly. “We are not yet finished, Little Cat.” 

He let his full weight fall upon Cheetor and pressed his frame down against the hull. With a soft huff, Cheetor let himself be gently pinned by the heavier frame above him. 

“Okay, okay…” He muttered. 

Cheetor could feel Tigatron throbbing within him, but now that he wasn’t struggling to get free, it didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt pretty good. He couldn’t help clenching against the spike still nestled within him, and he was rewarded with a low rumble of appreciation from his new mate. 

Tigatron licked the marks he’d left on Cheetor’s neck gently before giving him a firm nuzzle. 

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He asked. 

“Not more than I could handle.” Cheetor replied with a blush. “I’m okay. Better than I was before you got here. I promise.” He insisted when Tigatron hesitated and pushed his field into Cheetor’s in concern. 

“Hrm, I will trust you are being honest. I may have lost myself a little in the heat of the moment.” Tigatron said. 

“Yeah, I noticed.” Cheetor laughed softly. “Uh, are we going to be stuck like this for long? Cause you roar really loudly and I’m pretty sure whoever’s on watch noticed too.” 

“Ah.” Tigatron chuckled as he made himself comfortable. “It won’t be long. Then we can get you inside to your quarters.” 

“Hey Tigatron? How did you know what was going on?” Cheetor asked after a moment of silence. 

“Let’s just say, it was instinct.” Tigatron replied with fondness and another nuzzle against Cheetor’s neck. “How do you feel?”

“Full.” Cheetor blushed. “Raw. Less sparkache but not tired at all.” 

“Then we may be in for a long night.” Tigatron mused. 

“Oh yeah?” Cheetor asked inquisitively. “You mean it’s not over?”

“I don’t believe it would be that quick or easy.” Tigatron shifted, then gingerly extricated himself from within Cheetor’s valve with a grunt. “Heat cycles are rarely solved by a single overload.”

“So, are you going to stay for awhile?” Cheetor asked. 

When Tigatron got up and he was no longer pinned, Cheetor stood on long, shaking legs. 

“I will stay as long as my mate needs me.” Tigatron moved to stand in front of him, a smile on his face. “I am committed to assisting you through this no matter how long it takes. I should also speak to the others and educate them so they won’t be caught off guard like you were.” 

“Thanks, Big Cat.” Cheetor moved forward and bumped his helm against Tigatron’s, a sigh escaping him. 

“Let’s go. It likely won’t be long before your need requires tending to.” Tigatron rubbed his chin against Cheetor before turning to head into the ship. 

Cheetor couldn’t help the grin he wore as he followed on the tiger’s heels.


End file.
